I'm Lindsay Ferrier, a Nashville writer with a passion for family travel, exploring Tennessee, and raising kids without losing my mind in the process. This is where I share my discoveries, along with occasional deep thoughts, pop culture tangents and a sprinkling of snark. Want to get in touch? Use the CONTACT form at the top of the page.
July 20, 2015
Times have changed since the 1950s– and that’s definitely a good thing. If fashion models of the 1950s could time travel to 2015, I have a feeling things would quickly get out of hand.
Take a look…
“Herbert, would you get off the horn already?” Delores said impatiently. “I’ve got eyebrows on fleek– and I simply must tell Edith the news.”
“Say, Harriet,” Dean stammered bashfully. “Now that we’ve started wearing matching sweaters, can I call you my bae?”
“Now watch me whip!” Susan said breathlessly as a crowd formed around her. “Watch me nae nae!”
“Well, Roger, I… I… I suppose I might have just one more,” Dorothy murmured.
“YAAAAAAAAASSSSSS,” Roger replied with a wolfish grin.
“Let’s all make this symbol with our hands each time we take a picture together,” Rose told Wilma. “Then everyone will know we’re pals!”
“Gee, Rose, what a swell idea!” Wilma said. “I can’t wait to tell the whole gang!”
“YOLO, betches!” Betty called out gaily to the other teens on the beach as she and Dorcas set sail on a ‘borrowed’ sailboat. “See you never!”
“I just can’t with him anymore,” Marjorie thought when Darren arrived at the party in a manky top hat and rented tails. “It’s high time I ghosted this MF’er.”
I guess we’re all ready now to spend some time necking with The Bachelor in the Fantasy Suite,” Marjorie said.
“It’s too bad Peg was sent packing in the last rose ceremony,” Babs said wistfully. “She would have looked totes adorbs in that nightie.”
“Isn’t this the life, Madge? Here we are, two single gals on vacation, ’bout to get TURNT!”
“These delicious frozen waffles will ensure no one ever gets hangry in my house!” Marilyn bragged.
“This road map is hella cray,” Loretta mused to herself. “I mean, you’d think by now SOMEONE would have come up with a satellite-based navigation system that uses triangulation to calculate the driver’s exact location.”
“Whatever possessed Millicent to bring that ratchetty umbrella on our walk?” Alice whispered.
“I’m sure I don’t know, Louise replied. “And I specifically told her to wear a pink hat. I’m putting her on blast at the drive-in tonight.”
“Shit’s about to get real,” Alice nodded.
“For goodness sakes, Harold,” Dorothy giggled. “When you said you wanted to me to try out your new red lowrider, this is not what I had in mind!”
“Cathy heard Bobby’s asking you to the sock hop,” Brenda whispered into Joan’s ear. “Now she’s crying in the lavatory.”
“Oh who cares about her?”Joan laughed. “She’s so 1951. Bye Felicia.”
“Why do you always insist on throwing shade, Susie?” Florence asked irritatedly. “The rest of us think this gigantic beach hat is a real gas!”
“Did you see June and Mary Helen in those pants?” Joe said, elbowing Steve in the ribs. “There’s nothing hotter than pants on a dame!”
“Yeah, they’re all right,” Steve said mildly. “Those bermudas, doe…” He chuckled mischievously.
“What the…? Dammit, Annette, I told you snorting that flakka was a bad idea!”
“Don’t you think it’s a bit odd that Mamie’s husband always suggests leapfrog on our Bunco nights?” Myrna asked.
“SMH,” Betty sighed. “SMFH.”